


Maybe He's High?

by Navyblueyoucallmesexy



Category: Sherlock (TV), Zoolander (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Gender Confusion, Hand Jobs, Johnlock fun, M/M, One Shot, Orgasm Denial, Prompt Fic, Sexual Confusion, Sherlock what u doing, general confusion, latex fetish?, put ur dick away, too many tags, wheres ur eyebrows, zoolander inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-24 01:37:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7488276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Navyblueyoucallmesexy/pseuds/Navyblueyoucallmesexy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Write the fanfic about All from Zoolander 2 and John Watson.' </p>
<p>Benedict Cumberbatch is such a varied actor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe He's High?

**Author's Note:**

> For Mia <3

John was used to Sherlocks eccentric behaviour. Sure in the first few months it had surprised him, the pig under the bed, the midnight asparagus dance and that time he blasted ABBA for _three weeks straight_ and John took pride in the fact that he was pretty immune to weird stuff. But clearly John had under estimated Sherlocks sanity again.

“Sherlock, where- where are your eyebrows?” John stuttered closing his laptop lid slightly as the detective entered the living room. “And did you _straighten_ your hair?”

The arrogant knob simply blinked at John and stepped closer, toes touching Johns own. John sat up a little straighter and cleared his throat, taking in Sherlocks outfit. So shocked by Sherlocks lack of facial hair John had hardly noticed (honestly _where_ were his eyebrows) the latex skirt Sherlock was wearing. Which was all he was wearing, John noted.

_He must have shaved,_ John thought, _his eyebrows, his legs, his chest, god what if he's shaved his -_

“All is ready.”

If John had been surprised before, now he was somewhere between completely baffled and utterly hysterical. Sherlocks voice, usually deep and soft, was a ridiculously high, monotone, alien sound. Before John could even stifle a laugh, Sherlock was on his lap, laptop tossed aside.

_Maybe he's high._

Dispite the eyebrows Sherlock still looked hot and that skirt had John awkwardly adjusting himself in his pants impressively fast. “Sherlock, is this some kind of role-play thing? Are you okay?”

Sherlock leant over John and touched his cheek gently without a muscle moving in his face. “All is fine.” Sherlock answered after a pause in that weirdly feminine voice.

John watched as Sherlocks newly straightened hair fell forwards either side of his face and bit his lip as he moved it back. God help John the eyebrow thing was weird but it was still him. His eyes were still calculating and sharp, if not somehow prettier – “Wait. Are you wearing make-up?”

Sherlock dipped his head down to Johns collar and placed small kisses under his jaw. “All is not bound by gender constructs.” He murmured (in that crazy voice) against Johns skin and, despite the absurdity of the situation, he relaxed. John added ‘Latex skirts on men’ to his recently created List of Kinks he'd discovered thanks to Sherlock. “All is all.”

John laughed breathily and startled a little as Sherlock slid from his lap to kneel on the floor in between his knees. “All. Right. All is okay. Yep. Yes, definitely okay.” John mumbled as Sherlock kissed along the waistband of his pants and made quick work of his button.

He worked efficiently (as Sherlock usual did in bed) and took Johns dick down into his mouth fast, sucking deep and pulling back over and over, only pausing to lick and tease when John came close. John gripped his armchair with one hand and felt the other slowly reach down to Sherlocks oddly flat hair. He held on and fucked up into his mouth until he was almost –

Sherlock broke away with a pop and stood up abruptly. John almost fucking whimpered. Or maybe he did whimper, because the new Sherlock was shushing him with one hand, a finger resting on his lip as he pushed up the skirt and freed himself from the plastic. That could not have been comfortable. With a finger still pressed against Johns lip, Sherlock gripped his own cock and fucked into his fist. John stared, his own hand clutching his  erection for dear life and praying Sherlock had lube hidden around here somewhere because they weren't making it to the bedroom – was he wearing black nail varnish? – and John had been hoping they'd fuck in the living room soon and damn Sherlocks face was still a mask, pricing blue eyes staring John out and the only sign that he was getting close was a faint blush rising in his cheeks.

John watched and kept rhythm with Sherlocks fist, faster and faster until, without warning, he came right across John.

It hit his jumper, his face, the hand still wrapped around his cock – it was fucking everywhere. Sherlock didn't seem to care.

With a tug downwards of his skirt, Sherlock straightened and wiped his hand on his chest. “All is done.” He said, before wandering out of the room and leaving poor John breathless and flushed in his arm chair, one hand on his hard dick and the other wiping come off his cheek.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”


End file.
